


Dandelion Boy

by caramelcoastal



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Autistic Character, Cute, F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Happy Ending, He's Giving Her Flowers, Junkmetra, Light-Hearted, No Angst, Roadhog gives dating advice to his trash heap of a crime partner, Symmrat, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, charmed symmetra, or so he thinks, smitten junkrat, symrat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:24:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelcoastal/pseuds/caramelcoastal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roadhog said just give her a flower. That's what he was told. And it should be easy, since flowers seem to be kind of everywhere. This'll make Satya like him. Anything that sprouts out of the ground, and has color, is a flower. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dandelion Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a request from rootbeergoddess on tumblr. "Can I request a nervous Junkrat giving Symmetra a flower?" I hope this turned out how you wanted!

“Hog, what do pretty ladies like? Do they like frogs?” Junkrat rolled on to his back, breathing a heavy sigh. With his metal hand he uprooted a tiny patch of grass on the hill where he laid. He and his pal had the day off, the Overwatch Defense squad didn’t need him in. And some days weren’t perfect for mayhem. This especially was one of those days, overcast and moist smelling. Moist, god he hated that word. 

“How should I know, you twit? Be quiet, I never get any quiet, and today is my day off. Tanks are off, and I don’t need to listen to Reinhardt babble on about Ana. Don’t have to deal with Zarya’s crap attitude. I can go five minutes without hearing that monkey open up another jar of peanut butter. Hush your mouth,” He looked up for a moment, breathing deeply. 

Junkrat sat up with a smug look. “Oi, but you really love hearin’ that little video game junky titter on about her achin’ hands, don’t you?” he teased, smugly. He got a big dumb grin on his face. “You just listen to her talk, and talk. Big ol’ smitten fool, you are,” Mako’s large, brick-solid hand smacked him across the face so hard he fell back a little way. Youch, did that ever hurt! He did kind of deserve it, pushed one too many buttons. He was always pretty good at that.

“Shut your trap, Rat. If you know what’s good for you,” he groaned. While still trying to hold the tough guy exterior, Roadhog glanced around to make sure no one heard, especially not her. The coast almost seemed clear, until he saw her with the musician boy, chatting. Neither of them heard, that was good.

“Then answer my question, Hog. What do pretty girls like? ‘Cause, there happens to be a sheila I fancy,” he smiled. He sat up, crossing his legs and leaning back. Since that particular day happened to be an atrocious day for mayhem, the boba shop down a ways wasn’t open yet, and he busted up the music player that old arse soldier bought him, he figured today was the perfect day to approach her. 

Satya Vaswani, what a goddess. If chicks were bombs, she would be atomic. Little Miss Dancing Queen, far older than seventeen, but lovely nonetheless. The thighs on that women could drive a man to kill, they could. Long, gorgeous toned legs that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of for longer than a few minutes. She had the cutest little snooty laugh this side of town, and these badass hard light abilities. And the rack on that woman, oof! She put a fire in his belly that nothing could beat. Watching her do her almost anything was better than a good explosion, it really got him going. Junkrat wanted to do something, anything to at least make her look at his dumbass, which was why he was pressing his older, wiser friend to give him at least a little advice. 

“If you don’t tell me what to do, I’ll just call that sweet little Hana over and tell her all the things you said the other night while you were piss-drunk,” Junkrat smirked, shining a shit-eating grin right at his porky buddy. Roadhog’s shoulders went stiff, and he sat straight up. That made him feel faint, something he hadn’t felt since he was a stupid teenager. He couldn’t even say anything for a second, it was an awful thought.

“Okay, Hog, if you’re really not gonna tell me nothin’, then… Oi, Song!” Hana turned her head to look at the junkers, smiling. She was wearing the pink sweater with the rabbits on it. Hog’s ears burned hot red, and he covered the trash boy’s mouth.

“You have a lot of nerve, Jamison. Shut your mouth and I’ll tell you, you little worm. Girls like flowers, alright? They love flowers, get the sheila you like a nice bunch of flowers and wrap them up in a ribbon. She’ll go nuts. And I swear, if you say a thing to Song about what I said while drunk, I’ll end your miserable existence, Rat,” He spoke quickly, forcing all of his words out so that the disgusting little trash man didn’t ruin any slim chances he has with D.Va. 

“Oi? Flowers? That’s so easy, they’re everywhere! There’s a bunch of ‘em around here somewhere. God, I’m such a dipstick, I can’t believe I didn’t realize this before. Thanks Hog, hope you and Song work out,” He hopped up, bizarrely spry despite the peg-leg and hobbled off to find some flowers. They were, like, everywhere. It wouldn’t be hard to find them. He hobbled around, searching for something lovely to give the loveliest woman in the world.

Finally, he found them, a whole bunch growing under a tree near a playground. Of course, parents gave him some pretty odd looks. He gave a big dumb grin to a few single moms, who pulled their kids close in response. Typical, that was always how people were around him. Ooh, ooh, look at the freak boy. It righteously pissed him off, more than he wanted to admit. He absolutely was a freak, but that doesn't make,it any less hurtful. Didn't anyone teach them proper manners? Staring is impolite.

He yanked out a bunch of little, sunny looking flowers that were scattered about under the shade of a large oak tree, and leaving the roots on them make it look more natural. Dirt and mud clinged to them, giving them a nice earthy effect. At least, in his mind, that’s how it seemed. Surely, Symmetra would love them much more if they looked fresh picked, right? He could just picture her beautiful face smiling, too lovely for him to handle.

Holding the pretty little yellow plumes to his nose, he sniffed in deeply. They didn’t smell the greatest, or like anything, really, but there had to be something women liked about these things. Hopefully, this would earn him a bit of attention from her.

Now, what was the other thing Roadhog mentioned? Something about a nice little ribbon? Where do people even get ribbons, are there ribbon stores? What even was her favorite color? This was all a mystery to him, and he just wanted to make her happy. Stroking his slightly stubbly chin, he pondered where he could find something to wrap around the flowers when he noticed something sticking out of the playground’s sandbox. He approached, frightening most of the children away. They didn’t want the big scary rat-looking man with the pointy nose and sharp teeth to gobble them up, so they scurried to their mothers, crying.

Out of the sand stuck a little pink shoe. It was really the pastel blue laces that caught his eye the most, but the entire thing was perfect. A big grin grew on his face as he drummed his fingertips against his hip for a moment before crouching low and brushing the sand off. He picked it up, pulling the the laces out of the sockets and tying them in a bow around the stems of the yellow plume-like blossoms. Then, he made his way towards the lake, and crouched down to fill the pink shoe with water, so that the little fellas would have water to drink. Rather sloppily, they were placed in the child’s footwear. This was the best present he’d ever put together, he was so excited.

All he really wanted to do was make her happy. Beyond her lovely appearance, she didn’t treat him different like a lot of other people would. In the shop room where stuff like bombs and turrets were built, she was the only one to talk to him like he knew what he was doing. Torbjorn flat out ignored him, Mei saw him as a huge asshole, and D.Va was too busy messing around in that big pink mech to notice him.

Symmetra saw him as an equal. She didn’t act as if she knew better than him, and while she was still distant, she would actually communicate. Once or twice, she even asked for advice. Not to mention how whip-smart the girl was. Junkrat had always known he loved smart women who could run him in circles, and she always did. 

Which part made this thing shoot nails? Oh yeah, that one. Which paint should this mine be painted in to create a camo effect? Brown and green? That’s genius. Looks like the station got caught on fire again, where’s the fire extinguisher? Over there? Thanks, sorry. She must have the tiniest bit of respect for him to help him out. Once or twice, he was even able to make her laugh.

Plus, that big light gun sure did make some pretty explosions.

Now, he knew exactly where she would be. There was a pretty fancy, high-end part of town. People who lived there were the pretentious type. The kind of people that sneered at him for asking for directions, and scoffed when they saw him do practically anything out of the norm for them. Everything those people did made him feel like an outsider. Which, he was, but that didn’t matter. Not to him. 

Today, he was a man on a mission. He knew that in this part of town, there was a nice little dance studio. When she wasn’t looking for ways to improve on her light gun, or teleporter, she was here. He’d only caught glimpses of her dancing, but even then, he already knew she was one of the most talented human beings he’d ever seen. Gifted, graceful, and gorgeous: this woman really was everything he dreamed about, and more. 

When he came across the little studio, Junkrat peaked in the window to make sure she was in there. Sure enough, she was: all by herself, and spinning on one toe with one leg tucked in, making her look like a giant human top. It was insane, just the number of times she spun around and around, it made him sick just watching. Of course, he blew himself up into the air for fun, so it’s not like his own hobby was any less bizarre or weird. 

He opened the door, and nearly hit his head on the frame walking in. Clearly, this place was not made for 6’5 giant trash men in mind. Despite the cute little tingly bell ringing as he hobbled in, she didn’t seem to notice, she was so busy dancing around the room. When she did finally see the twenty-five year old standing behind her, it made her jump a bit, but she wasn’t too frightened.

“Mr. Fawkes, care to tell me what you’re doing here today? Not that I’m not happy to see you, it’s just… You know, my day off,” Oh god, she looked lovely. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and the leotard showed off everything she had. Satya Vaswani looked like she could kill a man, then dance to swan lake. Junkrat’s face turned red, and he started getting tongue tied. 

“Ah, well, you see, I came here to…” What did he even come here for? He felt himself begin to sweat, and reached up to wipe the sweat off his brow. He looked in his metal hand, and saw the flower. 

“You came here to do what?” Her voice was cold, and uncaring, but she was smiling, and eyeing his hand curiously. She really was a mystery, wasn’t she?

“Oi, I got you flowers. ‘Cause, well, y’see, pretty ladies, they dig flowers, right?” He held up the shoe for her to see. His hands and knees were shaky, and something began to stir in him. He felt as if the littlest knock would make him spew chunks everywhere. Junkrat took a step forward with his peg to hand it to her, and almost dropped it. The little gift fumbled around in his hands for a moment before safely in the metal appendage.

“For you, Miss Vaswani,” He presented the little gift to her, his eyes unable to make any sort of contact with hers. It sat in the palm of his soot and oil covered hands, awaiting her to graciously accept it. Symmetra was confused- to say the least- about what was going on.

It was a bunch of dandelion weeds poorly tied together with a sandy shoestring that was missing one of its aglets, and was sitting in a disgusting shoe that was dripping what looked like pond scum all over the studio. But he just looked so happy giving it to her, and that big dopey smile was hard to be nasty too. She really, really didn’t want to touch the shoe, especially with how bad the thing was reeking, but she knew turning it down would probably upset him. She looked up at his huge, dumb grinning face and couldn’t help but smile back.

Of course she knew how he felt, how could anyone not? He couldn’t be more obvious if he wore a shirt declaring it. Mercy had been the first to notice, and persistently teased Satya about the silly little Australian man who was in love with her. She really didn’t take him all too seriously, not at first. It just seemed like cute attraction, for the most part. She didn’t always understand love. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t feel it, she could. There were just aspects of it that confused her.

But, when months went by, and he was still just as smitten with her as day one, she realized he probably wasn’t going away anytime soon. She saw his harmless crush blossom into an infatuation. For the most part, he never stepped out of line. Despite Mei insisting that sooner or later, he would get a little too touchy-touchy, he respected her boundaries for the most part. He was even somewhat of a gentleman, doing things like holding doors open for her, and pulling out her chair. He never did this for anyone else, in fact he was rather crass and repulsive to most other people. But something about her made him want to behave himself.

He even caught her doing a few things that people on the spectrum did, like stimming herself once or twice, or the little dancing motions she did whenever she was stressed out. Whenever she needed to be left alone, he did just that. He knew how she felt about loud talking, and specifically quieted himself around her, for her comfort.

So, here he was, kind of pouring himself out to her and giving her an ugly, ugly present. And she took it with a smile. “Thank you, Jamison. What a beautiful flower,” she said, grimacing as the slimy texture of the lake-soaked rubber rubbed up on her skin. It wasn’t even really a flower, it was a dandelion weed dressed up like a flower. But, very similarly to Jamison, it was a very cute weed. 

She leaned in, giving him a small kiss on the cheek, which he didn’t seem to know how to process. Truth be told, neither did she. 

“You really like the flower, Miss Vaswani?” He still hadn’t quite processed the kiss on the cheek yet, or the kind of looks he was getting from her. Hell, he barely put together that she accepted his silly little gift.

“Yes, I do Jamison. And please, call me Satya. We’re friends, you do not have to be quite so formal,” She patted his back gently, smiling. The smile faded quickly as she saw a few other dancers walk in and see the drippy mess on the floor. Her face turned stern and ice cold, just as it almost always was. “Now, clean the mess you’ve made up,”

He saluted her, as he would do to 76 or Ana. “Yes, ma’am!” He grabbed a mop and began to wipe up the pond water. While he was doing it the wrong way, she found it too charming to stop and just agreed to do it herself once he left. As for the present, well, she found a nice little spot for it on her shelf, sitting on a towel at all times. And even when the weeds wilted, she just couldn’t bring herself to throw out such a bizarre gift from such a bizarre man.


End file.
